Evigilatio
by FallenCrimsonStar
Summary: She could Apparate to the other side of the world and he'd still find her. She couldn't run forever. Not from what she wanted. And especially not from him. Creature fic. Entry for dramionelove adopt-a-prompt fest 2015 on LiveJournal.


This was for the **dramionelove adopt-a-prompt fest 2015** on LiveJournal. The prompt was _"Enemies on opposite sides of the war. One of them is the Veela (unknown - part of their long ago heritage) and after seeing the mate in danger, suddenly awakens... and wants to mate. Doesn't have to follow canon events - can be completely A/U war."_

 **Evigilatio** : means 'Awakening' in Latin. This is set during the last book. AU differences: The trio were never carted off to Malfoy Manor during the Easter holidays, Ron didn't do that "agree with everything Hermione says" thing he did in the book when he returned after running off.

This is my post-beta'd but pre-fest version. It's a little different. Shout out to **Alphastar** of Hawthorne  & Vine for beta'ing this. Enjoy!

...

They'd been at it for a while now. She'd Disapparate, her friends in tow, and those cold grey eyes would follow. He wasn't physically following her; she wasn't so naïve as to think that Draco Malfoy, pure-blood extraordinaire had been traipsing through Great Britain chasing after a Muggle-Born he'd only ever shown distaste for. But she couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching her nonetheless. It had started innocently enough; images of him that she couldn't shake from her dreams and a burning sensation that started in her belly and trickled like liquid heat between her legs that preceded the best dream sex she'd ever had. The only sex she'd ever had at all but the point still stood.

So she stopped sleeping. She doubled the protective charms over herself, Ron, and Harry as they continued on their search for the next Horcrux and continuously tried – and failed – to push him out of her mind. Draco was a known Occlumens and though she had no idea how adept he was at Legilimency, she wasn't taking any chances.

But she wasn't stupid. He was thinking about her, too; the dreams were too vivid to not be real. The things he said to her, though X-rated, were still him. There was no other way to describe it; and she could still feel him between her legs hours after waking. She was fooling herself into thinking the dreams wouldn't filter down into a waking fantasy. Hermione had never been so wrong in her life. He was all over her, inside her; sometimes she thought she could smell him nearby.

Harry and Ron noticed her odd behaviour, of course, but were at least smart enough not to say anything. She became more irritable as the days went by and questioning her on it was more likely to unleash that infamous wrath of hers than do any good. But eventually they were going to need answers and she wasn't looking forward to their questions. This was all Draco Malfoy's fault; she was going to kill him when she saw him next, whether he'd done this on purpose or not.

She inhaled deeply; then started.

"Drop what you're doing!" Hermione whispered harshly, a sneer marring her lips.

Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter froze and turned to look at her, eyes widening in recognition (though admittedly, the growl in her voice was new). This was her routine now – she really needed to lay off the coffee. Because although she had just snapped at them her eyes were out there in the distance, like she could see something they couldn't. It was creepy and weird and grating on their nerves.

"Again?" Ron asked, frustrated. "Hermione, we've been Apparating to new places every day for like a week! You're paranoid; no one's following us. Give it a rest already."

She growled again, now whipping around to glare at her ginger friend. "Ronald Weasley, I am not paranoid! We're on a hunt for Horcruxes," she added, lowering her voice to avoid being overheard (you never knew who was in the shadows these days). "So I would think a little paranoia is warranted."

He let out a frustrated groan. "But you just said..."

"Harry?" She said, interrupting Ron. "You agree, right?"

He shrugged, fiddling with his glasses uncomfortably. He wasn't going to outright call her a nutter; he didn't have the constitution for her wrath right now. Ron had just broken their agreement to leave her be for another few days before calling her out; not that he blamed him. This wasn't getting them anywhere but he didn't mind Apparating again. They hadn't found anything in this rural Muggle town – just like the last half a dozen, it was completely empty. If he didn't know any better Harry would've thought Voldemort knew where they were going before they did and was sending his Death Eaters in to steal all the food before they could get to it.

He sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable. "Sure, let's go."

Ron let out a breathy groan, swore rudely, threw his hands into the air and grumbled before reluctantly moving away from the strange plastic Muggle contraption he'd been investigating. A...vening mashin or whatever Harry had said – or was it Hermione? Ah, whatever.

Hermione glared at him but said nothing. Instead she took the lead, closing her eyes as she held on tight to her boys. If she was paranoid then Ron was a seven-foot mountain troll and Harry was his itty-bitty unicorn lover. Ridiculous.

Determination. Deliberation...

What was next?

Hermione resisted the urge to growl, feeling that rutting twinge in her body that had been grating on her lately, making her snappy.

"Uh, Hermione?"

She ignored Harry's questioning and ground her teeth, determined to get this right. Her dreams flashed across her mind's eye again as she focused on her destination, determination, deliberation, and Disapparated.

Draco be damned.

'Breathe. Just remember to breathe.'

When she could finally open her eyes the world spun in front of her; the sway of the branches above her, the creak of the nearby trees and the scuttling sounds of nearby animals. Well what she hoped were animals. Every forest had animals, right?

Ron's voice broke through her thoughts. "Geez Hermione, couldn't you have picked a nicer place? I'm sick of trees. The Forbidden Forest had trees like these and they weren't very friendly..."

Hermione glared at him until he backed off hastily and joined Harry in pitching the tent up for the night. He wasn't wrong, but she hated to admit it out loud. All these strange dreams, not to mention the ones where she was wide awake and almost constantly horny, and now this? She stared out over the forest, not listening to Ron's complaints as Harry told him he was hammering the nail wrong (like they weren't actually wizards and couldn't just cast Erecto on the blasted thing), and wondering what she'd gotten herself into this time. She had been focusing on the Forest of Dean – or at least trying to. But she didn't recognise this place.

Where were they really?

The howl in the distance that seemed to echo her frayed state of mind was doing nothing to calm her nerves. And she had to stop herself from wondering if Draco Malfoy was prowling around in these dark, creepy woods in the dead of night.

...

She couldn't sleep. That burning itch was back, twisting her belly. The arousal was driving her mad. And it wasn't like she could just relieve herself here and now. Merlin, the mere thought of sneaking fingers into her knickers sent a wave of heat through her body. She was not going to sink to that – she shared a tent with two tactless idiots for Merlin's sake!

Mentally cursing Draco Malfoy, that sexy smirk and those magnetic eyes of his, Hermione scrambled out of the makeshift bed, grabbed her wand and stormed out of the tent. Harry was currently on duty so she needed to get rid of him (she needed something that was for sure; stupid horny dreams). Harry's head jerked towards her but he didn't look surprised to see her. The question lingered in his eyes, though.

"I couldn't sleep," she said, sitting down on the moss covered rock next to him and forcing a smile to her face.

"Ron's snoring, huh?"

Hermione laughed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. "Meanwhile you look like you're about to drop dead."

Harry chuckled. "Nice to know." And it was nice to see her smile for once.

"Go get some sleep."

"If you're sure?" He wasn't going to argue about more sleep.

Hermione nodded, drawing her wand to emphasise her point; he smiled broadly before disappearing into the tent. She chuckled at him again.  
Sleep had always been his battery.

Hermione shivered a moment later; there was no campfire anymore, of course, so she cast a quick warming spell on herself. This place was giving her the creeps. She shouldn't have been the one to Apparate this time – she was too distracted – but what was done was done. Those silver eyes had drawn her here, she was sure of it. But the logical part of her mind didn't want to believe it. That was why she hadn't Disapparated them straight out of here the moment they'd arrived.

She mentally berated herself when she jumped at an innocuous sound nearby. They were just the sounds of a forest. They happened to be in a forest. But this place, it reminded her of what she'd read about the suicide Forest in Japan – the Aokigahara Forest, she believed. That place was creepy. This place was creepy.

Hermione jerked suddenly at another noise; there were no longer any signs of animals nearby but the odd noises right now were coming from all directions, reverberating. It was like a body being dragged through the woods. The cracking of branches, trees maybe.  
Breathe. Just remember to breathe.

A fine idea. She needed to stop these thoughts.

It was only a few minutes before Hermione felt like she was being watched again. This was different though; the eyes that watched her now were a different kind of predatory. They weren't the molten silver that haunted her dreams. They were dark and cold. She had no idea how she knew that, just that she did.

Fuck this.

Hermione stood, strode over to the edge of the protective barrier and waved her wand, muttering "Homenum Revelio" softly. There was no need to wake up the boys if this was indeed just her paranoia like Ron had said.

Nothing.

Who was she kidding?

Hermione wondered if there was an animal version. She hadn't heard of anything like that. She bobbed slightly, thinking hard. Homenum meant "person" or "human", while revelio was "to unveil". So she just had to substitute homenum for bestiae, right? It sounded too easy to be true. But what the hell, she was cold, scared of what might be out there watching her and too randy to care that she was cold and scared. She needed this over with.

She focused, swished and murmured "bestiae revelio". Almost immediately she felt something touching her magic. It was a weird sensation and she didn't like it. She realised belatedly that "bestiae" had been a poor choice of words; it also meant "beast" and therefore might not have just picked up on normal animals, if there were any left here. That was an incredibly stupid thing to overlook.  
Something was out there, that's for sure.

A low hiss drew her attention and something warm trickled down her face; she could feel a pull on her body that had nothing to do with the strange creature she believed was watching her now. A warm breath on her neck made her shiver. How was he doing this?  
"Not now, Malfoy," she growled at thin air.

Her ears pricked at a familiar sound and a moment later she could smell him; he was so strong and she lost the will to fight back. Instinct drove her forward and, as though in a daze, she stepped through the protective barrier. Almost immediately she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Howling again. And she knew immediately what it was. Looking back where she came Hermione realised she'd somehow dropped her wand inside the barrier. Damn Malfoy. She couldn't get back in.

Instead she ran; her decision to run was immediate and she practically flew through the forest. There was no plan of escape, just the need for speed. The trees whipped by in a blur and she felt so amazingly weightless as she ran, faster than she had ever run before. It almost made her forgot what she was running from, to be afraid of what they would do to her if they caught her.

Then something large hit her; it wasn't heavy, more lithe and powerful really. She didn't know how else to describe it even though she'd already guessed what it was. But that didn't stop it from hurting when the warm body slammed into her shoulder, knocking her to the ground. Cutting off her escape had clearly been its plan; she scrambled to her knees but it didn't immediately attack her again, perhaps waiting for the rest of the pack she could hear fast approaching.

Hermione looked up into those inhuman eyes.

A werewolf.

Sometimes it sucked to be right.

It was huge, which meant it was well fed, too. He? She? Hermione wasn't sure, but they looked nothing like Remus Lupin did when he transformed. It's body was well-built and taller; twice her height, at least. It definitely enjoyed its four course meals.

Hermione groaned, climbing to her feet. Suddenly surrounded, she resisted the urge to close her eyes. Her body hadn't frozen to mirror her fear but she couldn't think straight. The only thing that registered as she fisted her hands into her jeans was the fact that Malfoy had gotten her into this but it didn't seem like he was joining in on the hunting party. The beast that had knocked her down was the first to lunge forward. She closed her eyes. She had no perception of time as the weight pressed down on her; claws slashed at her clothing holding her down as she screamed. The pain intensified and with a chorus of howls, the rest of the pack descended on her.

Maybe she blacked out.

And then quite suddenly the heavy weight lifted; she was weightless again. She stopped screaming abruptly, her body shuddering, her mind muddled. What the fuck? Hermione was too scared to open her eyes, pulling her arms tightly to her body as she let out a pathetic sob. The high-pitched screams of the werewolf pack and sounds of crunching bone made her whimper. Even when it was over and an eerie silence fell over the area she didn't dare to open her eyes.

Just kill me quickly, she thought.

She inhaled deeply; her eyes flashed open involuntarily. That scent. She looked up and her breath hitched. Those eyes.

"Malfoy?"

Oh god. Was she supposed to panic again? To run or stay?

He wasn't looking at her like she was food but the darkening of those pools of silver sent a shiver down her spine. All of a sudden she didn't want to run. Her body still trembled as she chanced a glace around her at the carnage he had wrought; she wanted to vomit. She had never been the squeamish type, but the sight of over a dozen corpses ripped apart and strewn across the forest floor was unsettling. The sight was too much and she tore her eyes away from it. The smell was doing strange things to her stomach.

Hermione looked up as Draco knelt down in front of her. It was only now that she noticed he had blood on his mouth; like a wild animal would have on their snout after feeding. Why didn't that bother her?

"I was calling you," he said, his gaze a little unfocused. "In my mind I was calling for you. I couldn't..." He groaned. "I didn't know until I saw you there, covered in them." He felt the hot rage building up in him he didn't understand. What was it about her that was making him so protective and angry at the same time?

Without thinking Hermione lifted a hand to touch the side of his face, unsure about what she was doing. But he seemed to like it, leaning into her touch and letting out what sounded like a purr; at a lower decibel though perhaps. The sound calmed them both. She could literally feel it. It was mesmerising.

She'd never had much confidence with the opposite sex before and it wasn't like she was on the pull during Hogwarts. Who'd have thought that of all the guys, Draco Malfoy would be the first to react to her like this? He had always been attractive; with those cold grey eyes and haughty good looks, he'd grown into his pointed features. She could admit the slender boy had been replaced with a ruggedly handsome young man – especially since it appeared he hadn't shaved in a few days. Even if he was still a prat, he was very easy on the eyes.  
And she wasn't so naïve as to not know what that gleam in those cold grey eyes of his meant; it was the one feature of his appearance that seemed unchanged since they first met on the Hogwarts Express so long ago.

"You're mine," he growled, lowering himself to all fours like a predator. Like he was stalking her.

And that was what she was afraid of. While she'd been reminiscing on his changed appearance over the years an entirely different change was going on before her eyes. It was almost like his form was being transfigured, like an Animagus. But this wasn't a wilful transformation. She could see it on his face; he was as surprised as her as he looked down at himself. His body had elongated, almost seductively as he arched; groaning, Draco began to pant. He didn't get any larger, become gangly or grow fur but his body had developed a sheen to it – almost like an extension of his platinum hair, but not discoloured. It was beautiful and she found herself entranced – more so when he caught her eye. His pupils were constricted instead of dilated like she would assume with the lack of light in these woods. So not a werewolf then? She'd never seen anything like this before.

She inhaled deeply as he shifted again. "What are you?"

"I don't know." He moaned; it came out strangled. Pain and pleasure, indeed. He pushed her to the ground suddenly and she let out a small hiccup of surprise as his hips ground against hers; she instinctively echoed his moan. He lowered his mouth to her ear, breathing heavily. "But I know I have to do this."

She smelt like strawberries and vanilla. Her fragrance was intoxicating. He had scented her a mile away, trudging about in the woods, her scent painting the foliage red and clogging up his nose. All the werewolves nearby were attracted to her too; but what was the scent of fresh prey to them was something far more valuable and esoteric to him. He just couldn't figure out how and why.

But right now he didn't care.

"Hmm..." Her body shuddered as he lowered his mouth to her pulse point and bit it gently; he had fangs, retractable and elongated. Hermione let out an involuntary purr. She was responding beautifully to his ministrations and he continued to work his mouth over the soft, exposed flesh of her neck. When he bit harder than necessary, she whined like a dog and he licked the wound immediately to sooth her.  
Draco looked down at the mark. Mark..he'd marked her. How did he know that?

The truth was battering at the back of his mind but he couldn't focus. All he could do was ground his hips into hers again and grin wolfishly when she writhed under him in response, lifting her pelvis with effort. Her strength waned and she fell back down, crying out from the unexpected pleasure. Her wounds caught his eye and he started licking them; funny, these ones had started to heal.

"Draco..."

Hmm. He loved the sound of his name on her lips. "Hermione," he whispered. "I'm going to fuck you."

She nodded, lost it seemed, as she succumbed to her body's desires. It made him swell, knowing he wasn't the only one completely and utterly turned on here.

Draco ran his hand down the front of her jumper, slicing the delicate material with his nails as he went; another perk of his transformation. He held her down as she reacted strongly, bucking under him as his cold fingers found her bare skin. He growled as she wriggled underneath him. She yelped as he pushed her legs apart and pressed his body further against hers. He was tired of going slow.

Hermione had enough sense not to anger him, realising belatedly what his biting and possessiveness meant. He was so surprised by his transformation that it had thrown her for a bit. And she concluded it would be safer for them both if she gave in. For now. She could rage at him later, like she'd been promising herself she would for days now. Now was about this; this overwhelming desire to be shagged into the forest floor. She didn't smell her best (it had been over a day since she'd taken care of her hygiene, given the situation and despite the extra need for it in the wild like this) but he didn't seem to care, inhaling her deeply. And now that she thought about it, he didn't look as immaculate as she was used to seeing him. He had a primal look to him as he dry humped her in a clearing littered with bodies.

And it didn't bother her at all.

She expected him to tear at her clothes, rip them off of her body and take her. He was about to lose control anyway so she ran a hand along his back, tickling his neck before clutching at his hair and crashing his lips to hers. This was the catalyst he needed – her acceptance.

He lost control. Hermione swore she actually heard it snap. In her head, maybe. He grabbed her wrists, pinning them to the ground above her head with one hand and tore at her clothes with the other. It was when the last strip of cloth had fallen to the ground and her naked body shivered in the moonlight that he stopped again, his eyes raking lasciviously over her form.

Draco immediately liked what he saw; the small but round breasts, the flat but not muscled stomach and that achingly delicious dip of her skin that led to the glistening treasure. He ran a hand over it, growling imperiously at the fact that she was ready so soon. Her heaving breasts caught his eye and he smirked; Draco released his hold on her hand before gripping her hips and stared into those innocent doe eyes of hers. He felt her heat engulf him as he pushed inside her without warning. She cried out and he lowered his mouth to hers not stopping, not hesitating; just thrusting into her as hard as he could.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that she was a virgin just like him, and he bit her mouth as she lifted her hips to meet his. Something inside of him, some animalistic voice, spurred him on. She was his. She was his mate. He needed to impregnate her; only then would she be tied to him forever. The thought made him growl possessively.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh. The feel of his hands roaming her body. The clenching of her core as he shifted his hips and slid in even further. He was going so fast, he was so rough; Hermione couldn't bear it. She felt herself half-crying as he lifted her to sit on his lap, putting her in control. Had he sensed her discomfort? Now she felt more confident, never moving her mouth from his as she tested this angle. She gyrated her hips, throwing her arms around his neck as he responded with a possessive growl. She loved this position. But after a few minutes of her setting the pace and moving in a teasing motion over his erection Draco grew impatient again.

He pulled out, ignored her disappointed whimper and turned her on her side. "Hold still."

She stretched her arm out, grasping at the grass as he pushed into her again. This time she let out a yelp as he resumed thrusting; a hand on her hip, his free arm hooking under her knee to lift her leg into the air. She didn't have time to feel embarrassed at the new angle and the way they must look; he was hitting her hard and fast but not deeply. So it wasn't long before he shifted her again, this time putting her on all fours and mounting her from behind like some dog in heat.

She felt her face heat up at the thought and then lost all thought as he thrust back into her. Hermione finally let herself go, closing her eyes and moaning. It was another few minutes before Draco was readjusting her again but she could feel he was getting close; she'd come several times, each time in a different position. She was sore but happy when he finally spilled into her, wrapping his arms around her as she buried her head into his chest.

Neither of them moved for what felt like hours, and she was content not to be the first to break the silence.

Even in the best sex of her life – the only sex – but she still felt confident no-one else could make her feel this way. She couldn't stop her mind from churning. He was a Veela. Of this, she was certain. His transformation was a little different from what she'd read but being male probably affected that. She wondered which Malfoy ancestor had dallied around with a Veela. But the feel of his fingers dancing along her body drove all concerns away.

"I have to get back to Harry and Ron," she croaked, ruining the moment. They would be worried about her; the sun was peeking over the horizon. But despite her words all she wanted to do was snuggle up with him in a huge four-poster bed and dally with him for the rest of creation.

He growled at her. "No. You're mine."

Before she could respond he wrapped her naked body to his, closing his eyes and concentrating on his destination, determination and deliberation before Disapparating them out of the woods. They were his woods anyway. The forest surrounding Malfoy Manor might have become the playground for Voldemort's werewolves, but they couldn't Apparate in and out of here like he could.

Landing swiftly in his childhood room Draco wasted no time in carrying Hermione to his bed to pick up where they left off. He would rage at Lucius for not telling him about his heritage later. For now, he had no intention of leaving his bedroom until he was sure his mate was with child. And nothing and no one was going to take her away from him.

She was finally his.

...

Let me know what you think. :)


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